New Recruit
by Newbienew
Summary: A young girl, Mary, accidently becomes involved in a dirty thirty mission and Alex quickly feels responsible for her. What will Nikita think and how does Mary feel about all of this? Written in mainly Mary's P.O.V. Set somewhere in season 3 after episode 14. (Sorry, but I stink at writing summaries, but please still read and review!)
1. Chapter 1

**HI! SO THIS IS MY FIRST NIKITA FANFIC AND I REALLY HOPE EVERYONE WILL BE INTERESTED IN IT! I AM COMPLETLY OPEN TO CRITISMS AND REVIEWS. I AM NOT SURE HOW LONG IT IS GOING TO BE, BUT I GUESS THAT WILL DEPEND ON HOW WELL IT DOES! :) ANYWAYS, PLEASE READ AND MOST IMPORTANTLY REVIEW!**

_CHAPTER 1_

_Boston, Mass_

POV Mary

I had this feeling like someone was watching me, but I probably just being paranoid. The buyer did want a guy to do the running and here I was, definitely not a guy. How would he ever find out though? I mean I was dressed as boyish as you could get. Boxers, Baggy jeans, sweatshirt, beanie, sunglasses, work boots, and fake hair on my chin. I looked like a guy. I probably shouldn't even be worrying. If it was good enough for Bill, my boss, than it must be good enough to keep me from getting a bullet to the head and fooling the buyer. Yet, here I am feeling uncertain about the whole thing in the middle of a drug deal between one of the largest gangs in town and the mob. Bill and the buyer, Big Max, step closer to me and I become more attentive.

"This is half the product, wait 15 minutes and the other half will be delivered here, and then bring it to his man, Big Mike." My boss tells me as he hands me a silver case and looks towards Big Max. I nod and take the case trying to make myself look as macho and big as possible.

"Not much of a talker are ya?" Big Max asks with a thick Boston accent. Bill quickly replies to cover my butt. I may be able to look like a guy, but talking like one may get a bit challenging.

"That's what makes him the best, he'll never sequel." They both begin to laugh and walk away from me, "and you wanted the best right?"

That was definitely not the reason why I was the best. Hell no. I was the best because I was the mobs most trusted resource. I was the best because they made me that way. I was the best because I was there slave and they took that for all its worth. I was the best because I had the drive to stay alive and staying alive is all that mattered on the streets.

Everyone was gone now, Bill, Big Max, the body guards. It was just me and the drugs, but I still felt like someone was watching me. I sat down on a large wooden box and tried to relax. I tried to give myself a mental pep talk: "C'mon Mary. This is like tons of other jobs you have done before. Nothing is going to happen. In ten minutes you'll be out of here with the other half of the product and on your way to big Mike. You've been in worse situations…."

This was pitiful. I hopped off the box and began to pace around.

POV Alex

"Division?" I whisper into my com crouching behind one of the large wooden boxes the warehouse was filled with.

"The dealer and seller have just exited the warehouse. Body guards have exited too. Only person left is the guy, roughly 18, possibly Kyle, his face is too covered up to tell." I wait for a response.

"You've got the ok to approach." I hear Ryan say. "Michael is outside for backup."

Gun at the ready, I walk out from behind the box. Slowly I approach the guy. He didn't seem to notice me yet. He didn't look to be armed and he didn't seem dangerous. "Kyle Turner?"

The guy spins around immediately. He looks at me and then the drug case on the crate. He runs to it and I drop my weapon, following him. "Really? He's a dirty thirty?" I mutter.

POV Mary

"Who the hell is she?" Is the first thing that comes to my mind when I see her, but then I see her gun and that thought quickly leaves my head and something on the lines of, "Oh holy shit, she's got a gun and all I have is the goddamn drugs. Crap the drugs! She wants to steal my drugs!" enters my head.

I spin around and sprint towards the case, my only job was to keep the drugs safe and that is what I intended to do. This girl was good though. Almost as quickly as I spun around she went after me. I grabbed the drugs in a quick run, grab, run even faster sort of move and darted for the backdoor, but she got me. She tackled me. This girl was pretty and petite, I mean who would of thought she could have been so aggressive- not me that's for sure. Still she tackled me like I was some prey and she was a lion.

The case went sliding across the floor and my head smashed against the cold cement ground, sunglasses coming off too. My disguise was probably ruined now. I wrestled out of her grip elbowing her in the head and then squirming to the case, leaving a small trail of blood behind me. I better be getting a bonus or something for this shit.

As my hand closes around the handle she grabs my foot and tugs me backward. I flip onto my back and look the girl straight in the eye before I smash her head with the drug case. Man was she stupid. She dropped back and I got up off the ground, only bad part was that she did too. She kicked my wrist and I yelled out in pain and dropped the case. It clattered to the ground and I was in shock. I wasn't expecting that to happen. Still surprised and off guard, she nailed a punch in my face and then to my gut. I stumbled backward my head throbbing from the punch and the cut above my eye from the tackle. She was good and I was well, not as good. She just looked at me and then said, "Everything is alight Birkoff. I'll have him in a minute." Either I hit this girl in the head harder than I thought or she was a part of something much bigger then stealing my drugs. She pulled out her gun once again and I couldn't do much. I was defenseless. I couldn't use the 'hey I'm a girl' thing because A. I was still dressed as a boy. B. If she was here for the drugs, nobody could know I was a girl because if that information got to Big Max, I was dead.

Her gun was still pointed at me and I did something instinctual. Well not instinctual, but what I thought was my only option- I went in for the tackle. Stupid decision. Like one of the most stupid decisions in my life. Her gun went off and I felt the bullet pierce into my shoulder, pushing me backwards and onto the cold hard cement floor. Keeping the drugs safe wasn't my biggest problem anymore.

Alex POV

"Alex? Alex? Are you ok?" I hear Birkoff yell into my ear through the ear piece. I was just standing there still. I couldn't believe what just happened. My gun just went off; I didn't even have to think about it. "I'm fine." I say back to Birkoff. I walk over to the guy. I had shot this guy thinking he was a dirty thirty, but up until now I never got a good clear view of his face. Although showing some resemblance to Kyle this guy wasn't him. I knelt down next to him and pressed on his shoulder. That is when I noticed I definitely had the wrong person. His face seamed to girly and the tuff of hair on his chin didn't even look real. An uneasy feeling in my stomach began to form. I slipped off his beanie and my biggest fear came true. This guy wasn't a guy at all, he was a girl. A young one at that.

"Birkoff I need backup right now. Send Michael ASAP."

"What is the issue?"

"I shot her."

"What? Her?"

"The guy who we thought was Kyle Turner is not Kyle Turner. He isn't even a guy. I shot a girl and I can't let her die."


	2. Chapter 2

**SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR THE SECOND CHAPTER! I HAVE BEEN VERY BUSY LATLEY BETWEEN SPORTS AND SCHOOL! ANYWAYS, HERE IS CHAPTER 2! ENJOY! OH AND IF THERE ARE A BUNCH OF GRAMMAR/SPELLING MISTAKES I'M VERY SORRY, I WROTE IT ON MY IPHONE.**

_Chapter 2-_

Mary's P.O.V  
As my eyes fluttered open, I felt like I had been sleeping for days. In reality I probably had only been out for twenty minutes, but it definitely felt like I had been hibernating or something. My vision slowly became clearer and that is when I realized I was in the back of a SUV, laying across the row of seats. The girl who had shot me was somehow crouching down next to me and applying pressure to my gunshot wound. It took me a few seconds to realize it, but she was just staring at me, deeply. It actually made me feel bad because she looked so pained and worried and nervous. I barely could focus on her, never mind talk to her, but I just wanted to tell her it was alright. Like say "know this isn't your fault. Don't worry, I'll be completely fine." That was not going to happen though because I then came to my senses. She was the one who shot me, she was the one who messed up my job, she was the one who ruined everything. It was her fault. It than occurred to me that despite the depressing look on her face, they were probably driving us somewhere to dump my body because if i wasn't dying I must secretly be a superhero.  
Trying to take in my last view moments the best I could, I examined the car. It was a large SUV. It had black leather seats, black walls, black everything. There were 3 other people in car: the guy driving, who actually was fairly attractive, an older-ish women in the front passenger seat, Asian and beautiful, and the girl who shot me. I felt like I had seen her face before, but I couldn't think of anything beyond that. My vision started to go fuzzy again, but I focused on staying awake. If I closed my eyes now, they may stay closed forever. Truthfully, I'm not so much afraid of the dying part of dying, but I am afraid of what happens after death. I am afraid of not existing and living. I am afraid of not being a part of the world. It scares me so much I can't even explain it. It's one of those things that you can't even think about for more than a few minutes because it so distressing.  
My eyelids felt like stacks of bricks on top of boulders. I gave up and let them close. If I was going to die, there was no more fighting it.

Alex's P.O.V  
The girl's eyes closed again and I became very worried. I checked her pulse and she was still living, just barley.  
"Michael drive faster." I said. This girl couldn't die. I don't know why I felt so connected to her, but I did. Maybe it was how young she was and the drugs. I mean she must be wrapped up in some pretty serious shit to be dealing drugs at what 14?15?16? I don't even know how old she is yet I feel like I know everything about her. Maybe this is how Nikita felt when she found me and took me in: a strong urge to protect and save her. I saw Nikita looking at us through the rear view mirror.  
"How much longer to division?"  
"Alex we can't bring a civilian, much less a teenage girl to division! It is too dangerous and besides we are still almost 2 hours away!" Nikita yelled calmly. We had this conversation just an hour early, with the same outcome.  
"Alex, we will drop her off at the farthest hospital from Boston possible. The doctors can handle her from there, the rest isn't our job." Michael told me. I was so frustrated. It felt like a Larissa situation all over again. Division can't continue going around and doing dangerous things without helping the people they affect. It isn't right or fair.  
"It isn't our job? Saving a young girls life isn't our job? What is our job exactly then?" I yelled at both of them. I took a deep breath and calmed down a bit. "If she goes to a hospital she will end up in a bad place afterward. If we take her to Division we will be able to give her a new life, a new start. We can save her Nikita. You of all people should know that." I waited for a response for what seamed like forever, but then I got what I had been looking for.  
"Michael, forget about that hospital, get us to Division as quick as possible." Nikita said to him.  
I grinned. I was going to save this girl and nothing was going to stop me. She was my new mission.

PLEASE COMMENT ON WHAT SHOULD HAPPEN NEXT! ALSO REVIEWS AND CRITIQUES ARE VERY WELCOME!


	3. Chapter 3

**HI GUYS! SORRY THIS CHAPTER TOOK A WHILE FOR ME TO POST. IT ISN'T VERY GOOD EITHER, I'M SORRY. ON A PLUS SIDE I HAVE A BIT MORE FREE TIME THIS WEEK BECAUSE I AM ON VACATION, BUT I STILL HAVE TRACK PRACTICE SO I ONLY THINK I AM GOING TO END UP POSTING ONE MORE CHAPTER BY THE END OF THE WEEK. LIKE ALWAYS PLEASE CRITIQUE, COMMENT, AND REVIEW! I LOVE HEARING WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY! :) **

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Mary's P.O.V**_

I guess you could say that when I opened my eyes and saw a silver paneled ceiling, I was relived, but honestly I was more surprised. I guess getting shot is far less severe then what the media or movies make it out to be. I guess I could just be pretty damn lucky maybe, I don't know. My ears caught up with my eyes, and I began to hear the obnoxious beeping's of the machines I was attached to. I slowly moved my neck to see the rest of the room. It was smaller than I expected; there was my bed, about five machines, an x-ray screen, a computer, and a built-in shelving unit with an attached sink. This didn't seem to be a hospital room so where the hell was I? I slowly moved into an upright position, using mostly my right side because my left was the side with the bullet hole. It was a struggle to say the least. Sitting up I had a better view of the entire room. It was definitely not a hospital, nowhere close to one. It was extremely cold and uninviting, almost like I was tucked somewhere underground. My eyes focused on the metal door next to me, to my left. I wanted to get out of this place, and the only way to do so, was if I got up and walked out myself.

I pulled the sheets of my body and swung my legs over the side of the bed and they couldn't even reach the floor. I surveyed my body. My arm was in a sling, I had one of those hospital type gowns on, three different tubes were sticking out of the top part of my right hand, and I had one of those pulse monitor things on my left pointer finger. With a deep breath I ripped the tubes out of my hand. It actually didn't hurt as much as I thought it was going to. It was just like a bit of a sting. I then hopped off the bed and walked over to the machine that the pulse monitor was hooked up to. If I just took of the monitor off of my finger, it would start beeping like crazy and I would get a bunch of doctors rushing in here thinking I was dying. Preferably, I wanted to avoid that. I looked at the machine and yanked a cord out of the back. When that did nothing, I tried another cord. With a quick beep the whole unit shut off and I plucked the monitor off my finger. I was ready to get out of the cold room, but first some bottoms. Most of the stuff I had been wearing earlier was folded on a little cart. I quietly walked over to it and grabbed the jeans I had been wearing at the warehouse. Looking around, I found a pair of scissors and attempted to cut the bottoms off. The guy jeans were way to long in the first place and if I got myself into a situation where I need to run, I would probably end up falling on my face. Cutting the pants into shorts was yet another struggle. The slightest movement up my upper left half of my body caused a stabbing pain in my shoulder. Although only lasting a few seconds, it was very uncomfortable and painful to endure. Nevertheless, using a mixture of scissors and my teeth, I made the baggy pants into rather stylish shorts. After a few minutes of practically rolling around on the floor to slip them on, I was ready to leave the room. My gown was tucked into my new shorts, my sling was positioned correctly, and in my free hand I had a scalpel I had located.

_**Alex P.O.V**_

_**Ryan's Office**_

"Alex we are not excepting new recruits, you know that." Ryan said as he leaned back in his chair.

"She doesn't half to be a recruit. All I am asking is for her to stay with us for a while until she recovers and then learns how to defend herself." I tell him once more. This is what division should be doing, helping people in her situation. We should be able to help people start fresh, like the old division did. Just with no murdering in return for that better life. I felt like nobody around here got that. This new division was just about cleaning up the mess, and I hated that because the mess will never be cleaned up. If it can't be cleaned up then we may as well use division resources for something better.

"Ryan, she is not asking you to let her be a recruit, she wants your support in getting this girl a better life." Nikita tells Ryan from behind me.

At least I had someone supporting me. I always can count on Nikita, even if she doesn't always understand at first.

"My problem is, Ok we fix her up give her a new life, and then she tells the world about division. What do we do then Alex?"

"I think she can keep a secret. We did find her running drugs for God Sake. I'm pretty sure she knows how to hold her tongue."

"I don't know Alex. We know nothing about her. Has Birkoff discovered who she is yet?"

Nikita shook her head. If Birkoff had found nothing on her yet, there was something off about her, which would not help me plead her case.

"Please Ryan. She needs our help. What are we going to do with her if you say no? Throw her back on the streets where she'll end up in another gang, with more drugs, and more crap? We can't do that to her!" I say, beginning to raise my voice.

"Alex, I know you don't want me to say this," Nikita begins in her motherly tone, "but maybe you are just doing all of this because you feel guilty for shooting her?"

That got me really mad. Of all people, she had to say that. I mean really, wasn't it her guilt over shooting my father and then leaving me to be forced into the sex trade, that caused her to come back for me and give me a new life? I was incredibly mad at both of them. I shook my head and rolled my eyes and marched out of Ryan's office.

_**Mary's P.O.V**_

Getting out of the medical area was quite easy, there was actually nobody there; finding my way up stairs was the hard part. The hallways were lined with concrete walls and most of the floors were concrete too. I felt like I was in a video game most of the time, with people going between rooms and corridors, I would have to constantly hide for cover. After probably 15 minutes of searching I found an elevator and took my chance. I pressed the button, the doors opened, and I stepped inside. I was actually surprised by what I saw on the inside panel of the elevator. There were 18 buttons, meaning 18 floors, and I was only on the seventh floor. I had thought for sure I was on the bottom floor, in the basement, judging by the amount of concrete everywhere. I guess I was very wrong. I pressed button three randomly and I began my ride up. The doors opened and I found myself staring into a large open workout room. There were punching dummies, punching bags, mats, weights, exercise machines, everything. The room was barely lit, with only a few lights on. I walked out of the elevator and into the room. I quietly began to look at everything, but still watching the door ways for people too. I stopped when I found myself standing on a large floor mat. This room was amazing, but I had no intention of staying there. Staying there, meant staying inside the cold concrete building, which was not on my to-do list. Seeing all the training equipment actually made me more worried because I actually got a sense for who I was dealing with. I was not dealing with a gang, or a mob, or some drug group. I was dealing with someone much bigger and dangerous then all of those groups combined.

_THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO EVERYONE HURT OR KILLED IN THE BOSTON MARATHON BOMBING. I HOPE EVERYONE WHO IS HURT RECOVERS AND IS SAFE. FOR THOSE WHO LOST THERE LIVES, MAY YOU REST IN PEACE._


End file.
